


Pink Socks

by gestaltrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestaltrose/pseuds/gestaltrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laundromat, middle of the night, red shirt, white socks…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Socks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lj user seventhpage who asked for : _Sam/Dean, turning their socks pink._

It was near two in the morning and they had lucked out finding a twenty-four hour place in this town. No one was there; no one would be there until seven, because that’s what the sign said. It also said that the place was monitored by cameras, which Sam had noted when they first came in.

“Damnit Dean,” Sam grumped as he moved the clothes from the wash to the dryer. He was sure Dean had done it on purpose. It was a load of whites and the fucker had put in a red shirt. Now everything was pink. Dean didn’t care he had black socks and colored underwear and Sam had the white. . . it helped them keep their clothes straight.

Sam slammed the clothes into the dryer and started the next load it was Dean’s stuff and his hand hovered over the bleach for a moment. It was so tempting yet Dean would be expecting something like that so Sam decided no, he’d wait.

Dean came in the door to the Laundromat carrying two sacks of food, burgers and fries. Setting them down he picked up his jeans that were in a pile on the table next to Sam and started folding. Sam tried hard not to glare at his brother, instead he grabbed one of the bags and went to the other side of the room to eat.

Ignoring the hurt looks he was getting from Dean, Sam concentrated on the food. He hardly tasted it just chewing and swallowing out of habit. Sam was fuming and the more innocent Dean acted the angrier he got.

“What?” Dean asked and that was the final straw, Sam snapped. Getting up he walked over to where Dean was sitting underneath the camera and out of it’s view. Sam unbuttoned his jeans after taking off his t-shirt. Stripping everything off he stood in front of Dean his clothes held out to his brother.

“Here, you missed some,” Sam said shoving his t-shirt, socks and underwear at Dean.

“Are you insane?” Dean moved Sam behind him so he couldn’t be seen out the windows.

“No, I’m pissed. You fuck with my laundry and I’m not supposed to care?”

Dean stepped closer to him and suddenly Sam was very very aware of him and he cursed himself. Fuck. He could feel his cock stirring as Dean moved closer still. He held the clothes in front of his growing erection. Dean leaned in and Sam could feel the warmth of Dean’s breath on his skin. Closing his eyes he tried to will away the ever growing hardness of his cock.

“Listen to me,” Dean said his voice low and Sam couldn’t help but do it. “I didn’t do whatever it is that you’re pissed at me about.” Dean looked down at the clothes clutched in Sam’s hands and reaching out he pulled one piece of clothing after another out of Sam’s hands dropping them on floor behind him. Finally Sam stood there his hands trying desperately to hide his erection and the way Dean was staring at him wasn’t helping.

Sam blushed, embarrassed and still angry with Dean, kinda, maybe. The way Dean was staring at him had Sam reconsidering. Dean looked him in the eye as he pulled Sam’s hands away, his own taking their place. Sam’s eyes fell shut. This wasn’t happening, it was some kind of weird dream and Sam was going to wake up in the Laundromat with a hard on tenting his pants.

Feeling the calluses on Dean’s hands rough on the skin of his cock, Sam moaned. Dean shut him up with his lips. Sam reached out and held Dean’s head in his hands, his thumbs brushing across the freckles that were scattered across Dean’s cheekbones. Closing his eyes again, Sam tilted his head and kissed Dean, his tongue running across his lips before dipping inside.

Sam forgot everything, that he was naked, that he was mad at Dean, and that they were in a public place. Dean didn’t though and pressed him into the corner, out of sight from the windows and the camera. Running his hand up and down Sam’s hard cock while kissing him; Dean’s tongue chasing Sam’s in an endless circle.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed out against Dean’s lips.

“Not here,” Dean grinned at him and slid his hand over the head of Sam’s cock causing him to close his eyes and moan.

“Later,” Sam said, opening his eyes and looking at Dean with need and want plain in his voice before pulling Dean back in to kiss him again. Dean sped up just a little bit and Sam came, hot and wet against his bare stomach and Dean’s hand. They stood there, Sam trying to catch his breath and Dean just waiting for Sam.

Dean started to step back but Sam grabbed his arm and didn’t let him. Reaching down with his free hand Sam rubbed across Dean’s cock still underneath the denim of Dean’s jeans.

“Sam, you don’t have to,” Dean tried again to step back. Sam spun them and pressed Dean into the corner. Lifting Dean’s hand that was sticky with Sam’s come, Sam slowly sucked one finger after another one clean. Dean was pumping against Sam’s hand that was still running up and down his hard on, before Sam had finished. Unsnapping Dean’s jeans, Sam reached in and touched Dean’s cock.

“Sam,” Dean begged and Sam shoved the jeans out of the way and pushing aside his briefs, Sam exposed Dean’s cock to the air. Smooth, hot, and hard, Sam reveled in the feeling of Dean in his hands before he set a quick pace. Dean pulled Sam to him, kissing him deeply and then whimpering into Sam’s mouth as he came.

Releasing Dean, Sam stepped back goosebumps forming on his exposed skin. Dean went to one of the dryers and grabbed out some clean jeans and t-shirt for Sam. Sam watched as he paused by the slightly pink white clothes tumbling around in the next dryer. He might have smiled but from where Sam stood he couldn’t see clearly and by the time he’d turned back to Sam, the expression was gone.

“Sorry,” Dean spoke as he handed Sam some clean clothes. Sam looked back over to where his now pink socks tumbled.

“I’m not,” he said and pulled Dean in for a last kiss before releasing him to get dressed.


End file.
